I shared the homeopathic birth story of my grandson, Ezekiel. It is time to tell of one of my own homeopathic birth stories. I have had eight deliveries and one adoption story. This is the story of my last baby, Suzanna.
All the Reasons Why
Let me start with a year and ten months before her birthday. I had an early second-trimester miscarriage that was devasting. We didn’t think we would be able to have any more babies. Honestly, I was sad, but I was okay with it. I don’t do pregnancy well, and I wasn’t getting any younger. Our oldest was 20 years old at this point. It’s probably time to stop having babies.
Don’t let anyone tell you the Lord doesn’t have a sense of humor. Exactly one month after my husband had the conversation where we agreed we were done, I found out I was pregnant. I had a list of reasons why this was a bad idea.
I would be 42 when this baby was born. My oldest daughter would be 21 years old. My niece would be having a baby before this baby would be born….and she is younger than my daughter! There would be a four-year gap between this one and the sibling next to the baby. Honestly, the hardest part at that moment was that I would be 60 when she graduated high school! Eighteen more years of homeschooling! I had to sit down for a bit.
A Baby at 42? Why not?
And while I was scared that I might repeat the miscarriage, I was. so. excited. A new baby? Yes, please! And the baby was due on Christmas Eve!
This was my easiest pregnancy. Now, it was a normal pregnancy with all its aches and pains. I joked that I didn’t know if it was pregnancy or arthritis. However, I took better care of myself during my last few pregnancies. I had planned another homebirth with the same midwife I had used for my last three babies.
Pattern, Smattern…Babies Don’t Care
For the three previous babies, I had established a pattern. The week before the due date, I had regular contractions. I called the birth team out. We got everything ready. Only to have everything stop about six hours later. Then, I would spend the next week trying to put up all the birth supplies, and my husband would go behind me to get it all back out. “What’s the point?” I would say. “I will be pregnant forever and never have this baby.” He would be kind and tell me that it is not medically possible. That my body was wonderfully and fearfully made, and the baby would come when it was time.
So when contractions started a week before her due date, I ignored them. This was my “false start,” and I was not about to embarrass myself by calling everyone out. It was Sunday morning, and we did our usual of going to church. I sat through church, getting up to walk around. A lot. Everyone kept asking if I was ok. “I’m fine. Just my false start.” I didn’t time anything. Why bother?
I took a long Sunday afternoon nap. You know the kind….when you wake up, you’re not sure what year it is. I didn’t feel like eating but knew I should, so I ate an apple.
Denial, Not Just a River in Egypt
(If there are any squeamish people in the audience, you might need to skip the next sentence.)
I lost my mucus plug around 9 p.m. It is possible to lose that two weeks before a baby comes, so I was still tracking my imaginary timeline. I texted my daughter (who was a doula) to let her know. She was out to dinner with daughter #2 (18 at the time). By the time they got home, I was sitting on the exercise ball and breathing through the contractions that I STILL swore were false start contractions.
SHE timed them. “Mom, these are 3 minutes apart, lasting 1 minute.” Oh. I’ll call the birth team out.
They all got there about 45 minutes later. Paula, my amazing midwife, asked me if I wanted to be checked. No ma’am. I laid down to try to rest and had a very uncomfortable contraction. I jumped up off the bed. When I stood up, my water broke. Except I was standing in a puddle of blood instead of just water. She looked at me and said, “Now I have to check you.” I, ever the cheeky one, say, “That’s good, ’cause now I want you to.” (Honestly, I would hate to be my midwife, doctor, pharmacist. I am a mess!)
How to Have a Lot of Pain in Labor
She gave us the go-ahead to deliver at home. The baby sounded good; I was progressing well. But I was scared. I didn’t want to transfer to a hospital. After every contraction, I would think, “That one was hard. What if I have to try to do that in the car?” I kept getting more and more anxious. And no surprise to anyone, anxiety while in labor = more pain.
While in the birthing tub, I asked for Aconite. For the intense fear. In hindsight, I should have asked for Ignatia. I think I was more scared about the previous miscarriage. So, I was dealing with grief and worry more than fear of death. I took several doses of Aconite. I asked for some Kali carb because I was having some back labor. One dose, and that took care of that!
A Baby is Born!
Within an hour of the birth team arriving at my house, the baby was born! Paula immediately tossed a warm towel over the baby. Everyone asked, “What is it?” I wanted to process everything I could. I wasn’t ready to announce the gender just yet. I just observed the baby. The sound of that first cry. The shape of the mouth. The softness of the skin.
Finally, we checked to see if we had a He or a She. With our numbers being very unbalanced, we had six daughters and two sons; everyone figured we were due for a boy. But God had other plans! I was holding our SEVENTH daughter! We were all shocked! Not one of us was disappointed. Even the boys were thrilled with the news of a new baby sister. It’s hard to be sad when you’re looking at her sweet face.
Remedies I Used After the Birth
I had someone give me another dose of Aconite and one dose for the baby. I know delivery is a shock to my system, and I imagine it had to be for the baby as well.
While we were still in the birthing tub, her breathing sounded gunky. I had one of my daughters grab the Ant tart. We tapped a few pellets on her lips. Within minutes her rattling was GONE! I was amazed, as I often am with homeopathy. I mean, where did the gunk go? Just gone.
Sweet Blessing
I am so grateful for this little caboose to our family. I had had a list of reasons why another baby was a bad idea. But not one of them matters. She’s 5 1/2 now. Homeschooling her is so sweet, as I know it is my last time to teach someone how to read. She loves fiercely and holds her own with eight older siblings. They all adore her. And while I named her Suzanna, the family calls her Wheeza. She’s the blessing we didn’t know we needed.
Do You Have a Homeopathic Birth Story?
If you have used homeopathy in labor and delivery and would be willing to share, email me! I’d love to talk with you more about it and maybe share your homeopathic birth story here!
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